


River Betty

by lea_hazel



Series: Hearth and Home [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alchemy, Arguing, Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Interspecies Romance, Skyrim is fucking cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2579600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An argument about swimming in snowmelt is resolved to everyone's satisfaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	River Betty

"Have you caught all the fish you like?" asked Mjoll grumpily. 

"One fish-eating cat joke," said the Dragonborn, "and this one will never get another of Ki'shaal's healing potions again." 

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Mjoll crisply. "Now. If you are quite done trying to get us both killed, I believe I'd like to dry myself off. Maybe oil my armor, so it doesn't rust." 

"You were not required to enter the water, Mjoll," she grumbled. "That was your decision." 

"To keep you from getting yourself killed!" said Mjoll hotly. "You can't just wade into snowmelt as though it was a nice warm summer pond. You could have drowned!" 

"I can swim!" hissed the cat, startled out of her customary third person. 

"Not in this water," said Mjoll flatly. "You would have frozen to death. You would have lost feeling in your arms and legs and sunk to the bottom of the river like a stone. Or had your face chewed off by a slaughterfish, now wouldn't that be ironic?" 

Ki'shaal raised her index finger. "You have been warned." 

Mjoll muttered something vaguely apologetic. 

Ki'shaal extracted the key from her pouch and fumbled with the lock, refusing to admit that her fingers were just a little bit numb. She entered the house and Mjoll followed, both of them dripping puddles all over the wooden floor. 

"Ah," said Mjoll. "I see your housecarl has gotten the kitchen furnishings in at last and you have a nice, roaring cooking fire to dry your fur by. I will be heading back to the inn, then, since you don't seem to be in imminent danger of frostbite. If she catches her death," and this was aimed at Iona, who had just entered the room, "don't lay the blame at my feet. I  _tried_  to stop her." 

Ki'shaal growled her objection, punctuating it by vigorously shaking the water droplets off her pale fur. "No." 

Mjoll, who had started for the door, turned her head. "What do you mean, 'no'?" 

"You are not going out to the inn," she said. "It is warm here." 

Mjoll looked fit to burst with indignation. 

"She's right, you know," said Iona, quite calmly. "Stay awhile, sit by the fire. There's roast rabbit and mead, and I can help you clean your armor." 

Iona was know to have the best-kept steel plate in Riften. Rumor had it that she had a home-made polish solution, the ingredients of which were a closely kept secret. Whatever it was, everything she owned always shone bright silver-gray, and seemed impervious to rust. It was a tempting offer. 

"All right, then," said Mjoll. "If you insist."

The fire crackled cheerfully and hissed whenever fat dripped down from the slowly crisping rabbit legs that roasted over it. Combined with the little smoke that lingered from the fire, their smell was overpowering. Iona, ever the efficient housecarl, had set out mead and bread and whisked both their armor off to some unknown place, leaving them dry clothes and a pile of blankets to wrap themselves in.  

Ki'shaal had cheerfully done just that. She sat near the fire, eyeing the roasting meat, dressed in a cotton robe, with a bear pelt draped over her legs. The pelt was far too large for her and most of it slid off to one side, pooling by her bare feet. 

"You see," she said softly, "this is much better." 

Mjoll had to agree. Where Iona had gotten a tunic exactly her size and why she kept it around was beyond her, but she was grateful all the same. She chafed her feet, which had not been this warm in what seemed like weeks. "This is nice," she admitted. 

"I am glad that you decided to stay," she said. "I would not have liked for you to go out into the cold again." 

"I've lived in Skyrim all my life," said Mjoll. "I am much better able to handle the cold than you. I still don't go swimming in icemelt if I can help it, though. In case you're getting ideas." 

Ki'shaal waved her hand. "The fish will make a good slowing poison. I should have enough to last a long time. When I run out... maybe I will go down to the docks and ask Wujeeta if she caught any in her nets." 

Mjoll laughed softly. "You could have done that to begin with. Here, move over. You have much more room under that rug than one cat could take up." 

For once she did not object to the name but shifted her legs and let the human take a place beside her, tucking the bear skin snugly around them both. Ki'shaal hummed, her eyelids drooping. 

"It has been a long day," she said. 

"We've been on the road too long," Mjoll agreed. "It's good to be home." 

She had snuck her arm around under the blanket to casually wrap it around the khajiit's waist. Mjoll was terrible at sneaking, the way only a Nord warrior could be. Ki'shaal laughed, and the laugh turned to a purr when she leaned against the human, resting her head in the crook of her neck. Even the tantalizing smell of roast rabbit wasn't enough to keep her from drifting to sleep.


End file.
